Happy
by A. Windsor
Summary: Nate tries to deal with his past so he can enjoy his present. Nate/Sophie with a Maggie cameo at the beginning.


Title: Happy

Rating: PG

Characters: Nate Ford, Sophie Devereaux, Team, appearance by Maggie Collins

Pairing: Nate/Sophie

Summary: Nate tries to deal with his past so he can enjoy his present. Nate/Sophie with a Maggie cameo at the beginning.

Spoilers/Time Period: Set at the end of a hypothetical fifth season, follows canon up through The Three Card Monte Job.

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.

Author's Note: The world needs more Nate/Sophie, and my muse told me to stop whining and contribute myself. This is set two-ish years into a hypothetical future. I don't think this is where we will be at the end of the (fingers-crossed) fifth season, but nothing about it should (purposefully) contradict the canon we've been given.

* * *

The sharp cry of her cell phone disturbs the after-dinner peace of her Van Nuys home, making her jump away from her reading. The caller id intrigues her, and she wonders immediately what could be amiss to make him call her so late on the coast he's on.

"Nate?" she questions.

"Hi, Maggie."

His voice is quiet and hoarse, wrecked. Her worry peaks.

"Nate? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I… I'm sorry I'm calling… I just need to talk to someone who understands…"

"Are you okay? Where's Sophie? Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Great. Happy. Sleeping."

"Then why are you calling? What can I understand that they can't?"

Silence on the other end, and it has an odd tone. He seems upset, but not devastated. Mostly, he seems out of it, having trouble stringing a coherent sentence together.

"Nate? Are you drunk?" Maggie asks, jumping to the obvious conclusion, though she had been rather sure that he had cut down on that pretty significantly over the past two years.

"No." It's a pretty firm answer. "No. I promised I wouldn't."

"What is it, Nate?" She's finally losing her patience. This really isn't her problem any more. Speaking of… "Spit it out, or go talk to your _wife_."

A heavy pause, and she can't imagine that the next words will come through the phone.

"Sophie's pregnant," Nate finally admits, his tone conflicted, managing to mix sorrow and elation.

It's Maggie's turn to be silent for a moment, shocked.

"Maggie?"

"Oh, Nate" is all she can manage, because what just do you say to that?

"I just… I should be happy, right? I _am_ happy. I just… Sam. I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can… How do I raise another child without… being afraid? Without thinking of him every two seconds? And that's not fair to anyone, right?"

"Nate, I…"

"Remember when we found out about Sammy? We were so excited. I feel like I'm failing this baby already because I'm too scared to ever be that excited."

"Have you talked to Sophie about all of this?"

"Not really. She's _so happy._ She says she wants to talk about it, about Sam, but I can't take that look out of her eyes."

Maggie tells herself that it doesn't hurt to hear the adoration in his voice. She's going to need a hell of a therapy session after this phone call.

"I'm not happy enough, and that seems unfair. But I _am_ happy, and that feels like a betrayal, to Sam."

"Nate, don't. Sam would be happy."

"But would any of this even be happening if Sammy were still alive?"

That's an ugly question, but she knows it weighs on him. Both Nate and Sophie have sworn a million times over that Nate never strayed during his marriage to Maggie, but she had felt something tugging him away long before Sam was sick, and she's ninety percent sure that something was Sophie Devereaux and their cat-and-mouse game across Europe. Would that have eventually driven apart the Fords' marriage, even with Sam still in the picture? Would they be splitting weekends and holidays? Would fifteen-year-old Sam be eagerly awaiting the birth of a half-sibling to spoil?

She almost loses it at the idea of her baby boy at fifteen, gawky and low-voiced but so beautiful and healthy.

Nate must hear her shaky breath, because he continues, repentant:

"I'm sorry, Maggie. That's an awful question, for all of us."

"And pointless," she says, regaining her equilibrium. "It _is_ happening, Nate, and it's a greater betrayal, to Sam, to Sophie, to the baby, if you can't step up and be the father this baby needs."

The firmness of her admonishment wakes him up a little from his haze.

"I don't know if I can be a better father than last time, and I failed then."

"You didn't, Nate. You did everything you could."

Silence overwhelms the line.

"You have to accept that. You were a great father, and you'll remember how to be one again, the moment you hold that baby in your arms. That's the only way you can honor Sam."

A heavy pause, and then: "That therapy is certainly paying off."

Maggie lets out a watery laugh.

"Nathan Ford, go have this conversation with Sophie, please. She needs to know what you're feeling."

"In the morning, I promise."

"Good, because it took me a lot of time and energy to come to terms with this marriage, so I'm going to kill you if you screw it up."

"Goodnight, Maggie."

"Still evening here in LA, but goodnight, Nate."

Nate shuts off his phone and lets his head fall onto the balcony railing. The door behind him opens, Eliot's voice reaching him before he can look up.

"How was Maggie?"

Nate's head comes up sharply. "Eavesdropping, now?"

Eliot shakes his head. "Hardison tracks all your phone calls. The numbers, not the audio."

Nate opens his mouth to object, but Eliot cuts him off.

"What's up with you and Sophie, man? She's been acting weird around you for days, and you're making 11 o'clock phone calls to your ex-wife."

"How's it any of your business?"

"Hey, the state of your marriage affects how the whole team operates, so we all keep tabs on it. And honestly, you're a total tool most of the time, so if you two are splitting up, we're keeping Sophie."

"We're _not_ splitting up."

Even he is surprised by the firmness in his tone. The very idea spooks him; he can't go back to life without Sophie, and now that he knows, their child.

Eliot looks pretty relieved.

"Okay. So. I ask again. _What_ is going on with you and Sophie?"

"You can't even begin to guess," he says, not wanting to tell anyone (else) until discussing it with Sophie first. He turns back to the view.

"She's pregnant," Eliot says simply.

"You _were_ eavesdropping," Nate accuses, more annoyed than anything else, facing Eliot again.

"No. I just read the signs. Sophie's got that glowing, anxious look all expectant mothers get, and she's been on tenterhooks around you. Wasn't sure you knew until your call to Maggie popped up. Figured she's the one you'd want to talk to with news like this."

"She told me at dinner."

"Uh huh. Where is she now?"

"Upstairs. Asleep."

"She know you were calling Maggie?"

"Not yet. She will."

Eliot nods his approval.

"Were you suitably excited when she told you? Or were you an ass again?"

"I'm not an ass."

Eliot gives him a skeptical look.

"To Sophie."

An even more skeptical look.

"Anymore."

"Didn't answer my question."

"I was as excited as I can be. But I wasn't really expecting it, and…"

"And?" Eliot growls.

"I'm pretty terrified."

Eliot relaxes.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Terrified is a perfectly reasonable reaction to impending fatherhood. As long as you're happy, too."

"I _am_ happy."

Eliot even smiles then. "Good. 'Sgonna be hell on logistics, though. We gonna hang it up?"

"Haven't really thought that far ahead. Do Parker and Hardison know?"

"Nah. Not really observant about that kind of stuff. Neither has been around a lot of pregnant women. Don't worry; my lips're sealed until y'all are ready to tell them. Hell, I'll even look surprised when you do."

"Thanks, Eliot."

"And I'll do all the shit with your kid that you're too old to do."

"_Thanks, _Eliot."

"And, Nate, if you need to talk about it, I mean, I know there's Maggie but I can't imagine that's a fun conversation for her. Anyway, I'm here."

More sincerely: "Thank you, Eliot."

"Alright. You need to go up and see Sophie. Now."

"She's asleep."

"You should be, too! You're gonna be one old dad; sleep while you can."

"Goodnight, Eliot."

* * *

He makes his way up the spiral stairs, his head spinning with the way the world he's just gotten under some semblance of control has been turned upside down. A _baby_.

He strips down to his boxers and undershirt in the dark, his only light coming from the moon outside the window. He crawls into their dark bed, automatically spooning behind Sophie. His hand drifts of its own accord to her still flat stomach. He drops his mouth to the soft spot below her ear.

"Soph," he whispers, his voice rough.

Still mostly asleep, she barely hums a response. A light sleeper by nature of her profession, she now sleeps deeply whenever she knows he's nearby. It takes his breath away to know how much she trusts him.

"I love you," he breathes into her skin, feeling hot tears at the thought of the child growing inside of her.

He doesn't know if she consciously hears him, but as his body succumbs to the emotional and physical exhaustion of the day (her presence eases him as much as his eases her), her fingers find his and tangle against her stomach, even as they both settle deeper into sleep. The crucial moment of that evening plays on a loop against his eyelids as he drifts off.

"_Nate." _

_A deep breath. Her eyes get wide as she pushes back her plate, revealing a vulnerability he hasn't seen rivaled since he slipped an obscenely large diamond on her finger for real, and even that pales in comparison. _

"_Nate. I think…" _

_Is that fear? Is she _afraid_ of him?_

"_No." _

_Another deep breath in her lungs, steel in her spine. _

"_No, I most certainly know." _

_Her eyes finally, fully meet his, wet with tears._

"_I… I'm pregnant."_

_

* * *

_

Two days pass in a sort of limbo. He tells her he's excited and scared, but can't bring himself to elaborate. Internally, his world pendulums, his love for her the only constant. He can tell, though, that despite the way he holds her tight and kisses her warmly, she is still on edge around him, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, as if this thing she's always secretly wanted will drive away (physically or emotionally) the man she's most obviously and vocally wanted for the last fifteen years. It breaks his heart, but he can't blame her. He himself is swinging wildly between joy at this sudden gift, fear at the many possibilities, grief at the even more numerous impossibilities, and guilt that he's feeling too little and too much.

Eliot watches them patiently. Parker and Hardison, between their love of the job and their love for each other, are much less observant, but are not so blind as to miss the obvious tension and flux of Nate and Sophie's relationship. Parker starts clinging protectively close to Sophie, giving Nate dirty looks that warn of the repercussions of driving her beloved Sophie away again. Sophie welcomes the attention and distraction of the younger woman, letting her tag along in everything. Nate, despite everything else going on in his head, finds Parker's behavior rather endearing, encouraging them to _get out of the house_ and spend some time together. Hardison seems a little peeved at being neglected so, but Eliot distracts him with suggestions of sports viewing and video games, even occasionally roping Nate in.

Still, something has to break, and soon, since they do have a bit of a finite time table to contend with now, something along the lines of six and a half months.

* * *

The third morning after Sophie's life-changing revelation, sharing a quiet breakfast upstairs as the "kids" try not to make too much noise below, everything clicks into place.

He surveys his setting. Sophie across from him at the tiny table in their kitchenette, a mug of herbal tea cradled in her hands as she reads the morning paper, the remnants of the omelet he made her on her plate, her feet in his lap. As he rubs idle circles into her sock-clad feet, he notes how his shirt has begun to fit more snugly around her chest, and if he squints hard enough, around her waist as well.

"Soph?" he says, eyes travelling over her make-up free face and adorably tousled bed head.

"Hmm?" she asks, attention still focused on the jewelry ads in the _Globe_.

"I'm happy," he says simply.

Her eyes dart up quickly, bright with emotion, as he removes her feet from his thighs and leans forward, stealing the paper away and taking her hands.

"Oh, Nate."

"I know I didn't make that clear enough when you told me, but I've been struggling with putting words to this light feeling that keeps bubbling up over the rest. And that's it. I think I'm happy. Worried, _terrified_, conflicted, yes, but definitely happy. I mean, a child that you and I created, that's kinda a miracle."

"A miracle that had me hurling at six in the morning," she says wryly to diffuse the emotion building in her wet eyes. "But yes. Definitely a miracle."

He grins and kisses her, the mint of her tea still fresh on her lips.

"I think we should tell the team," he says confidently.

"Right now?" she questions.

He nods, already on his feet.

"Can I at least get dressed first?" she teases.

He realizes that his shirt and his socks are the _only_ things she is wearing.

"Oh, yeah. You better get dressed."

He quickly clears the table as she heads back to the attached bedroom, making a note to talk to Hardison about knocking out another wall to add a nursery. He's already dressed for the day, since he's also been awake since the early morning sickness wakeup call, but didn't fall back asleep.

Kitchen chaos vaguely re-ordered, he settles himself onto their bed to watch her get ready.

Nate loves watching Sophie get dressed, even when it is but especially when it isn't for a con. There's such a beauty to it, the blending of art and routine, even when she's throwing on a soft summer dress and a dash of mascara.

"The earrings from St. Martins," he suggests as she contemplates her ridiculously huge jewelry collection.

She meets his eyes in the mirror and grins. "I've always known there was a romantic hiding in you."

He smiles, choosing to be happy, to honor Sam with his happiness.

"What do you think they'll say?" she asks as she slips the small pendants from their honeymoon into her ears.

"Don't care," he answers honestly, embracing the happy full-force.

She gives him a curious look, an answering brightness lighting her eyes as she comes to the bed.

"And the job? Are we still going to do the job?"

He sits up to meet her, his hands coming to rest at her hips as she stands between his legs.

"Don't care."

"Is there anything you do care about?" she asks, obviously annoyed at his cavalier dismissal of important questions.

"Right now?" His thumbs trace patterns on her belly. "You." Her breath catches as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. He lifts his eyes to hers. "Her. Or him." She lets out a beautiful sigh. "Everything else can come later."

"I love you," she breathes as she takes his face in her hands.

"I love you, too," he whispers against her lips.

"Hardison! Change the goddamn channel."

Sophie breaks the kiss with an exasperated laugh. "Should we go tell the other children that they're about to have a baby brother or sister?"

* * *

As they come down the stairs, Parker drifts to Sophie's side, eying Nate warily.

"'Morning," the thief says.

"Good morning, Parker," Sophie answers, squeezing her shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

Parker's brow creases as she studies the older woman. She's spent enough time with her recently that even she notices the change.

"Yes." She sniffs her.

"Parker, stop sniffing Sophie," Eliot admonishes, still wrestling Hardison for the remote.

"She smells like omelet."

"You're so weird," Eliot throws over his shoulder.

Sophie crosses to the couch in three quick steps and plucks the remote from the fray. Parker leaps over the back of the couch to land between the men as Sophie clicks off the television. Nate catches himself grinning stupidly at how great a mom she is going to be.

"Alright, now that that is settled, can we all have a little talk?"

Nate takes that as his cue to join them.

"Sure, Soph, what's up?" Hardison answers, Parker settling in at his side.

Eliot rolls his eyes at Hardison's obliviousness, earning a questioning look from Sophie. Right. He's not supposed to know.

Parker pulls her knees up to her chest as if to protect herself from the bad news she seems to be expecting. Hardison, at that, looks concerned."

"Well, Nate and I have some news that we've been sort of mulling ourselves for a few days and we've decided that it's time to bring everyone in on it."

She meets Nate's eyes as she searches for the right words.

"You can't go again!" Parker interrupts. "I know he's a jerk sometimes, but he loves you. And we all need you."

"Hey," Nate objects, defensive, but Sophie ignores him.

"Oh, Parker, no. I'm not going _anywhere_," she breathes, trying to reassure her.

"Hey, see, Parker, it's okay," Hardison soothes, placing a protective arm around her. He looks between Nate and Sophie, the latter of whom looks quite stricken at Parker's outburst.

"I'm so sorry to scare you. No, this is good news."

Eliot, who already knows Sophie is happy about this, keeps his eyes trained on Nate. Their mastermind has _that_ look, the one that always gives away just how in love he is. Nate has his own eyes locked on his wife.

Sophie's hands drift to her stomach. "We're expecting."

Hardison understands instantly, a wide smile spreading across his face.

"A baby," Sophie clarifies for Parker. "In January."

"Aw man, Soph, congratulations," Hardison laughs, moving to stand.

Parker, however, beats him to it. With her lightning quick reflexes, she's off the couch with her arms around Sophie before he's done speaking, head on her shoulder, holding tight. After a startled moment, Sophie returns the embrace, one hand rubbing Parker's back, the other smoothing her soft blond hair.

Hardison turns his attention to Nate, forcing a man hug onto their mastermind. Eliot grins, hovering near "the girls", waiting for their moment to be over. Sophie runs her fingers over Parker's braid, and from his vantage point, Eliot sees the smile Parker buries in Sophie's shoulder.

"Alright, Parker. Let her breathe."

Eliot overplays his gruffness to let her know he's mostly joking.

"Oh. Right." Parker just as abruptly drops her arms. "Breathing for two now. So cool."

"Thank you, Parker," Sophie says warmly.

"Congrats, Sophie," Eliot honest-to-goodness smiles, drawing her into a big hug. "You're gonna be a great mama."

"So I'm a jerk, huh?" Nate asks of Parker while Hardison goes to bug Eliot for his turn to hug the mother-to-be.

Parker shrugs and nods, but with a mischievous light in her eye that lets him know she's teasing this time.

"So, how old is your kid gonna have to be for me to teach it to rappel?"

"No, Parker."

"Crawl in airshafts?"

"No, Parker."

"Pick a lock?"

"Oh, as soon as possible."

"Crack a safe?"

"Soon as possible."

"Boost a car?"

"Open for negotiation."

"Score!" she exclaims. She spends too much time with Hardison. Speaking of…

"Oh, man, I'm gonna buy it all those cute geeky onesies. And its first video game. Aw, now I'm getting emotional…"

Parker looks to her man and rolls her eyes with a smile.

Nate closes his eyes, breathes in deep, and embraces the happy. Hard choices and hard conversations are right around the corner, worries from the mundane to the ridiculous to the devastating, but for now, the woman he loves is beaming with her excitement and all he can think about is whether their child will inherit that smile.

* * *

**Fin**


End file.
